


Champagne and Gasoline

by AshToSilver



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hostage Situations, M/M, Prompt Fill, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshToSilver/pseuds/AshToSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mr. Wayne, Wayne, it’s been too long. Think you can help a clown out here by sitting pretty ‘til the fuzz show up?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Champagne and Gasoline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BadgerDame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadgerDame/gifts).



> **Anonymous requested:** _Comic Verse Abduction as Seduction kink_
> 
> Still a part of my [June Prompt Challenge](http://alexfics.tumblr.com/post/145111053242/accepting-batjokes-prompts). Let me know if you have a request!

“Put your hands in the air!” There was the click of at least a half dozen guns unlocking their safeties as a number of masked goons burst into the ballroom, eliciting screams from the crowd.

Screams that cut to terrified whimpers as a man dressed head-to-foot in rich purple swept out onto the marble floor, revealing far too many teeth in a vicious grin.

“Now ladies, gentlemen…” The Joker’s mirth at the fear he was inflicting was obvious as he gazed upon Gotham’s richest with a casual interest. “I’m sure you’ve all got places to be, affairs to have, children to ignore and all that, so I won’t keep you long.” He waved a knife in a _so on and so forth_ gesture. “I’m sure you know what to do, phones, money and jewelry on the table for my friends here to collect.” He grinned as there were a few unhappy noises. “I can always take a hostage or two if you all don’t feel like cooperating, any volunteers?”

There was silence among the crowd and the henchmen poked a few people with gun muzzles in incentive.

“Man’s gotta do everything himself these days,” the jester commented and grabbed a man standing stone still to his right, whipping the much taller man around in a loose chokehold and swiping his knife high across the cheekbone, cackling when most of the crowd screamed at the sight of blood.

“Now, now,” the Joker drawled, “ _teamwork_ people, and this’ll all be over soon.” He gave another grin and then twisted to see who he caught, an even more delighted look going across his face as he recognized the man. “Mr. _Wayne,_ Wayne, it’s been too long. Think you can help a clown out here by sitting pretty ‘til the fuzz show up?”

“You know me,” was the response, the fakest smile fixed haphazardly on the billionaire’s face, “always willing to help.” Nobody laughed along with the Joker at that, even if they usually would.

“In that case… Wayne and I are going to have a chat while you lovely fat cats part with a small fraction of your fortunes. Have fuuuuuuuuunnnn!” And with that, he swept out of the room, still holding his hostage at knifepoint.

The door of a side room was slammed with more force than necessarily as Joker shoved Bruce Wayne in and locked the door behind them, pushing a dressing table in front of the only exit for good measure.

Bruce eyed him from the middle of the room, managing to command a presence even with just him and the Joker to see it. Every line of his body was too loose, a regal and handsome air hiding any other thoughts behind a bachelor’s careless attitude.

But the clown was _good_ at this sort of thing and he grinned with a feral edge at the man curled beneath the aristocrat. “Brucie, Bruuucie, so long it’s been since we last saw each other.” His hostage took a step back as Joker prowled forward, flipping the knife in one hand and reaching with the other to press a leather-clad thumb to the bleeding cut on Bruce’s face. “You look even more gorgeous then your magazine covers, such as a radiant _star_.”

Bruce gave a very real flinch as Joker dragged his thumb down his cheek and across his mouth, the blood colouring his lips. “What’s the point of all that money if you can’t look good?” He asked, his voice a deep whisper and the clown had to laugh at that.

“You’d look better on your knees,” the Joker replied, pressing the blunt edge of the knife to Bruce’s neck, far away from any veins, “why don’t you put away your bad jokes and put that mouth to a better use?”

There was a brief pause, before Bruce tried to pull away, stilling only when Joker pressed the point with the knife and a tight hand in his hair. 

“None of that, babe,” the Joker tutted. “On the floor, now, that’s a good boy, hands behind your back.”

Bruce went down slowly, never breaking eye contact and keeping his arms behind his back as he kneeled. He crooked his head, as if he was curious about something, his eyes dark as he waited for Joker to make a move.

The clown hissed under his breath, almost dropping his knife as he snapped it up into his wrist holster, freeing both hands to undo his pants and pull out a half-hard cock. With a hand that was _almost_ shaking, he pressed fingers into the joint of Bruce’s cheek, forcing his mouth open with a noise of eager anticipation. “Don’t - hah - leave me hanging, darling. Smile for the cameras.”

For a moment, Bruce _almost_ slipped. Joker was good at looking at this pretty face - he knew the subtle shifts that said this was going to be _discussed_ later, most likely with fists and a whole lot of black. He combatted it with a grin - one he usually reserved for poor Mr. Wayne alone, and sure enough, Bruce came back and leaned forward after a moment, swallowing him down with practiced ease.

It was divine. Hot and wet and _delightful_ in a way that almost made his knees buckle. He grabbed ahold of Bruce’s hair, half to steady himself and half to make sure him and his lovely mouth didn’t go _anywhere_.

Bruce moaned, forcing his own head back to suck in a lungful of air and meet Joker’s gaze again, sharp intelligence and a hot intensity clear in his eyes as he lapped lazily at the head of the other man’s cock, his tongue curling around the shaft as Joker pushed him back down again.

The clown couldn’t stop the choked laugh that came out of him as he felt Bruce’s nose press against his hip, warm air on white skin as he breathed heavily when Joker began to move, shiftly slowly to set the pace, and then with a near-painful thrust that hit the back of Bruce’s throat.

Bruce’s eyes slid closed as he struggled not to choke, shifting on his knees in a way that said _I could break this hold at any time_. But he kept his hands behind his back and didn’t bite, managing to breath as Joker fucked his mouth, still clutching his hair and abandoning all pretenses as he threw his head back and bit his own lip, trying not to shriek in delight.

Bruce was good at this sort of thing, and stamina outside a battlefield had never really been Joker’s thing, so it only took a minute or two before the build-up was almost too much, a faint growl in Bruce’s throat giving a delightful vibrating sensation as he hollowed his cheeks, licked and sucked.

The clown got his thoughts together long enough to tighten his grip and freeze, letting loose a gasp that stole the air from his lungs before he came, feeling Bruce swallow as he did.

Just as quickly as it started, it was over and his knees couldn’t take it anymore. With a muted thump, he fell back, dragging Bruce down with him as he sprawled on the floor. For a moment, he wheezed, vision sparking nicely and the heavy press of his delightful hostage on his chest.

“Mmm, I gotta get out more if this is what you give me,” he muttered, a warm tone colouring his voice as he stroked a hand over Bruce’s flushed face. “Why don’t you move up here a bit so I can finish you off, darling?”

“I thought there were cameras,” Bruce replied, but obliged as he crawled forward, kneeling over Joker with a looming presence, hands on either side of his head.

“Well, there _were_ ,” was the answer. “Nnnf, Ba- _Brucie_ , someone’s excited.” The clown grinned wickedly as he rubbed against Bruce’s own erection through the fabric. “You’re lucky you were a good hostage, you know. I won’t do this for just any old victim.”

There was a deep, almost thunderous growl from Bruce, a tense shiver going down his body as Joker pulled his cock free and began to stroke him quickly, smooth leather adding an edge.

“I think you like this,” Joker muttered, a light haze at the edge of his mind that was almost _content_. “I think you love it when I make you do things. Makes you all tingly to lose control, doesn’t it?”

“ _F-fuck_ ,” was the choked response, Bruce’s arms shaking as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep himself from falling down completely. “Do y-you _ever_ shut up?”

“ _No_ ,” Joker laughed and kept giggling as Bruce suddenly leaned forward and bit his shoulder through the jacket, giving a muffled shout a moment later as he came over the exposed skin of the jester’s stomach.

For a moment they panted, still half-intoxicated from the mixture of sex and thrills. There wasn’t even the sound of police sirens yet and for a moment, they could stay there, breathing in each other’s scent and thinking of the night that was going to follow _this_.

“I’d better go,” the clown said after a moment, dragging himself out from under Bruce and sitting up. “Gotta get a headstart so our - heh - _mutual friend_ can find me later.”

“Wouldn’t want to miss that,” Bruce whispered, before he kissed him, tasting bitterly of both of them.


End file.
